


Beats

by dominicsparkles



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angsty Schmoop, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Feels, Ficlet, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, William Sherlock Scott Holmes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-22
Updated: 2014-06-22
Packaged: 2018-02-05 18:10:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1827541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dominicsparkles/pseuds/dominicsparkles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John are happy in their new relationship. There's just one more thing Sherlock needs from John...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beats

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at fic. Ever. Feedback is always and forever loved and appreciated!

_Two million, fifteen thousand, nine hundred fifty-five._

Sherlock had calculated the exact number of beats his heart had made in the fortnight since he had managed to find suitably adequate words to express his feelings for John. It would have been two million, sixteen thousand even, but his heart skipped two whole beats when John responded not with words, but with a kiss that shook him to the very core of his being, and then another beat for each of the forty-three kisses that had followed so far. He had considered asking John whether or not there were any health risks associated with arrhythmia due to being kissed too thoroughly, but he thought better of it. After all, he didn't want to worry John unnecessarily or give him cause to _stop_ kissing him.

Things had changed surprisingly little between John and Sherlock in those two weeks, apart from the newly physical aspect of their relationship. After all, they had both _had_ these emotions for each other for years, even if they'd only just recently gotten around to doing something about it. Life as it had been up until that point had been working out perfectly for both of them already, so incorporating physical intimacy into their relationship hadn't been too much of a stretch, though they were finding they suddenly had a great deal more excitement with which to fill their formerly spare time. Everything was very nearly perfect, but Sherlock still felt a pointed ache in his chest as the words whispered between them echoed through his mind.

_“John...”_

_“Sherlock...”_

There was nothing for it. It was becoming obvious that John was never going to deduce it. As tedious as it would be, Sherlock was painfully aware that he was going to have to spell out the exact words he needed to hear from John's lips.

* * *

 

“...SHERLOCK!” John shouted. Sherlock cringed, blinked twice, and looked quizzically up at him, suddenly keenly aware that he'd been perched on his haunches in his chair staring intently into nothingness for what must have been hours. “I was just saying I'm off to bed now, and if you wanted to join me--”

“Mm. Yes, good.” Sherlock jumped out of his chair and followed close behind John to the bedroom they had been sharing for the past thirteen nights. John had already disrobed and climbed into bed, but Sherlock had frozen in place just inside the doorway with his shirt half undone, with his hands still unfastening the fourth button down.

“You're acting a mite strange tonight. A bit more than usual, even. Everything okay, Sherlock?” John looked over just in time to see Sherlock barely suppressing another wince. “Okay, yeah, something's bothering you. Out with it or neither of us is going to get any sleep for days.”

Sherlock took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and jerked his arms down to his sides. Drawing his gaze back to John's increasingly confused face, he exhaled on the words “ _William_ Sherlock Scott Holmes!”

John sat up in bed, looking just as perplexed as ever. “Yeah, you already told me your full name. What are you getting at, Sherlock?”

“It's William.”

“Yeah, but you don't go by that, right? Nobody calls you William. You have _never once_ asked anyone to call you William.”

Sherlock huffed as he finished undressing, flopped heavily into bed, and glared at him pointedly. “John, you should know by now that you aren't like anybody else. I don't want them to call me William. It's too-- it's _personal_.”

He realized he had been a bit more terse than was strictly necessary, but he felt his face growing hot and it was incredibly uncomfortable, so he pulled John closer and hid his face in the crown of his head, inhaling John's scent to help himself focus. Threading his fingers through John's hair, he murmured into his scalp. “When I decided to make my work the sole focus of my life, I made everyone start calling me Sherlock so I would have fewer conscious ties to the part of me that was wrapped up in sentiment. But now there's you, and you're...you. John, you made me realize the value of sentiment, but it's far too dangerous to trust anyone other than you with that part of me, so, please--”

“Alright, alright, you big git!” John laughed, pushing away so he wasn't buried in Sherlock's chest anymore. “Well then, all you had to do was ask, _William_... You still can't call me Hamish, though.”

Sherlock's smile beamed brighter than John had ever seen it, and he traced his fingers lightly over the lips that had just spoken his name for the first time, following the light touch with his own lips and tongue.

_“John...”_

_“William...”_

_Two beats._

Suddenly, Sherlock looked upset again.

“What is it now, William?” John was getting a bit perturbed.

Sherlock took John's face in his hands and peered into his eyes. “John, how many times can one's heart skip a beat before it becomes a medical concern?”

John laughed. “Not sure, but it's been happening to me for as long as I've known you, and I'm still fine!”

_Two million, thirty-three thousand, nine hundred fifty-three._


End file.
